Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction ❯ Vampire Hunters ❯ The Barbaroi ( Chapter 4 )

Part IV: The Barbaroi

Vahleryie slowly awoke. Her body felt heavy, like a weight within her holding her down. She moved lethargically, her senses dull. She did not know where she was, could not recall how she got there or what had happened to her. Her mind was blank… until her eyes cleared. The fuzziness that clouded her vision slipped away, and she looked at the room around her.

She was in a luxurious bedroom that was decorated with luscious silks and satins, draping off the walls and on the furniture onto a floor of velvet.

A room that was entirely blood red.

The silence in the room was almost as great as the lethargy within her. Vahleryie slowly lifted her head, her hair hanging over her face. Her breathing was labored and shock attacked her system, sending her body into slight convulsions. How did she get here? And what was wrong with her?

She lifted a hand to her face and abruptly remembered, her eyes widening. D. She had been fighting with him against the Count…when… She dropped her hand and looked wildly around the room. The Count had taken her captive. And he had sunk his teeth into her. Vahleryie's fingertips traveled slowly to her throat, her breathing becoming more difficult with the heavy feeling within her. The puncture wounds were there. That was why she felt so weak and her body so slow. She was suffering from loss of blood and the need for it.

She looked about the room and suddenly realized how the bloodlust had been stimulated within her. Because of her loss of blood she was more susceptible to becoming overwhelmed by the bloodlust. The vampire had known that and placed her in a room where even the walls appeared to be waves of blood flowing.

Her teeth protruded eager for the taste of blood. She collapsed on the bed, heaving with the pressure within her. She was desperate. She needed blood. Her body was craving it and she was losing control.

Vahleryie took a deep breath trying to regain some semblance of self-control. Her bloodshot, desperate blue eyes looked about frantically for a way to escape but none was revealed through the waves of silken blood. There was not even a window.

Suddenly she heard a door open. She turned her head to the side only to see the vampire approaching her with two wineglasses in his hands. But she knew without a doubt that there was no wine in those glasses. The scent of blood had already filled her nostrils, and the battle between her self-control and the bloodlust had begun.

* * *

"There are the windmills of the Barbaroi. Are you sure about this? I say we turn around now and go pick a fight with that Count Moloch character. Better than dealing with these lunatics."

D ignored his hand and continued riding forward toward the gates.

"You know, I'm sure there are other ways of finding out the information you need. We don't have to go in there! For once in your pathetically long life will you listen to reason! If it weren't for me you'd have been dead long ago. Come on! Give me some credit when in comes to rationale, because you don't got a lick of it! Don't do this, D! Don't-!"

D stopped before the gates and silenced the hand with a quick clench of his fist. "I am the Hunter D. Open the gates. I wish to speak with the Barbaroi."

The chains on the gate slowly retracted, and the great doors opened, creaking with their weight. D entered silently.

"We are so dead."

The creatures all around them began to gather in hordes to watch the lone rider, some snickering with amusement, others screeching in fear. Some pressed closer, while others scurried back into their dark holes. D paid the commotion around him no mind. There was only one he wished to speak to.

A group of Barbaroi ahead of him parted, revealing the old man. D stopped his steed and dismounted.

"I see you are still a stickler to formality. What brings you to our realm, I wonder? I do not think you have any business here," the old man said, his lips spreading in a toothless grin.

"I have come with questions. And I would like answers."

The old man lifted a wrinkled brow. He cackled and began to spin around in his unicycle. "Oh ho ho! And what makes you believe that I would answer your questions, my lovely dunpeal?"

D met the old man's gaze. "You said once that the Barbaroi served the people of the night. But that if you ever changed your ways, it would be for me. Why?"

The old man cackled again. "Blunt as always, I see. You are right, I do believe I said that many, many years ago. But why? Why you ask? Do you remember what else I said to you, dunpeal?"

D was silent for a moment before he answered. "A dunpeal like me you had never seen before."

The old man nodded and went around in a circle again. "Very good memory, indeed. Deserving to be the son of the Vampire King." D made no reaction. "That is why if we would change our ways, it would be for you, dunpeal. You are the son of the Vampire King, the Lord of the Night. The Barbaroi serve the people of the night, and it goes without saying that we serve our lord." He paused for a moment before grinning once more. "And our lord's son." He cackled again. "So what questions do you have, young dunpeal? You have come seeking answers and I will give them, to the best of my abilities. Such courtesy cannot go unappreciated."

D remained silent for a moment before speaking. "Why did I have to kill two weak Barbaroi in the service of Count Moloch?"

"Ah… Yes… Poor fools. Moloch entered our realm, haughty, disrespectful and unappreciative. He demanded the weakest of us. He said they were only to be a diversion while he gained what he desired." The old man humphed and his face twisted into a snarl. "He did not even thank us for our cooperation and said he would pay us after our duty was complete." A wrinkled brow arched as the old eyes gazed at D. "I take it you were the one who finished off our poor brethren."

D nodded slowly. "Count Moloch kidnapped another dunpeal who was working with me. I would like to know why."

The old man cackled and rode his unicycle in loops. "Really…? Well, whatever his reason for that is, we do not know. Moloch did not grace us with his purpose." The old man stopped and grinned at D. "Is this dunpeal your lover?"

D did not respond to the query. "She is the daughter of Count Navarre and the Countess Adrianna. She has hair the color of the sunset and eyes of ice." D paused and saw the grin fall from the old man's face. "Why does Moloch want her?"

The old man shook his head and rode his unicycle in distracted circles. "I have heard of that child. The only dunpeal born of a vampire's womb. Could it be Moloch believes the old legend…?"

"What legend?" D asked, lowering himself to a knee to stare into the old man's evil eyes.

The withered, tiny man cackled. "So even you do not know the legend then? Ah… But few of us do. Count Navarre and Countess Adrianna the best. Your father knew as well. This new generation does not remember the old stories." He spun in another circle. "Would you like to know the tale then, dunpeal child of the Vampire King?"

D nodded, remaining silent.

"Very well then," the old man said and then began the tale. "This tale begins long ago. Long before what even the oldest remember. Long before there was a King of Vampires. Long before even when vampires had to hide their existence from men. Before even that, when vampires had first been born into existence, and from them came more vampires and then…the dunpeals.

"It was a time when mankind had begun their first cities, their first empires, their first nations. Your father was alive then and so was another. The sister of Carmilla. Shaylyn. A woman who was content to rule her own isolated island, subjecting all humans beneath her to fear. She was a bloody ruler, much like her sister. She delighted in the human sacrifices to her… For to them, she was a goddess. But after 500 years of ruling, of demanding a male sacrifice every score and five years, after twenty-five sacrifices… The twenty-sixth caught her attention and her desire to make him into a vampire overrode any other logical sense. Your father knew of this. At the time, no vampire was allowed to create fledglings. There were far too many already. But it was too late to stop Shaylyn. The man had already been transformed. All your father could do was drive Shaylyn away. For two thousand years, he tried to keep Shaylyn away from this man, but at times she would slip by his watch and find him. Two thousand years later it was her creation and his lover that killed her.

"As her heart burst was tossed into the flames, she cursed him. A silent curse, but a powerful one. When he tossed her body into the flames after her heart, the curse was born. She knew something he did not. His lover was with child. When she had bitten into the woman's neck she had intended to kill her and the child within her womb. But she knew, when he came and joined his lover, she would lose. So she cursed them both. The woman would die unless converted into a vampire; so she knew, in his greed and need for affection, he would turn her. That woman would birth a child, a child to be hated and feared and rejected, but the blood… Because it had been born from the womb of a vampire, the child's blood would be so potent and so powerful that any vampire who could obtain and drink forth her life would gain Shaylyn's power folded a thousand times. A god's power. For unlike the blood of a human or a vampire, the blood of a dunpeal has a vampire's strength, but none of their weaknesses. The evidence of this would be a mark on the child's body. Something, skin, eyes, birthmark, hair, would be tinted red. A color neither parent possessed in their lineage. Shaylyn did this… So the child would marked, be hunted and killed by both humans and vampires, and so she could be reborn. Shaylyn would be reborn…and she would have ultimate power.

"Only your father heard Shaylyn's dying curse. Years later, when he had become the Vampire King, he approached her killers and their child, and told them of it. The vampire count was not surprised at Shaylyn's curse, but feared for his dunpeal child. The Vampire King swore he would not let Shaylyn return to this plane, if his life depended on it. When the world collapsed and vampires were free to roam and rule once more, Carmilla came into power and the Vampire King, disgusted with her gluttony, destroyed her. Both sisters were now gone… Or so he believed. Your mother, dunpeal, was a seer, and foresaw both Carmilla and Shaylyn's rebirth. Your father tried to prevent it. It was in that battle that both of them perished… And your father bestowed his power unto you.

"You have prevented Carmilla's rebirth and have destroyed her. Will you now prevent Shaylyn's?" The old man finished with a mad cackle.

All of the Barbaroi, whom had been silent for the telling of the tale, now burst into maniacal laughter or shrieks. D only straightened absorbing what he was told.

Count Navarre and Countess Adrianna, Vahleryie's sires, had been the ones to kill Shaylyn, the sister of Carmilla. And now, just as Carmilla had tried to be reborn through the sacrifice of Charlotte, Shaylyn was trying to be reborn through the sacrifice of her enemies' child. Through Vahleryie. This is what Moloch desired. The power of Shaylyn. Little did he know, not just her power would be brought back from the next plane.

"Remember, my pretty boy, this is just an old legend," the old man snickered. "Whether the old stories are true, one can never be sure. Let us see. If Moloch truly believes he has the child of legends, the vessel of Shaylyn, then the people of the night will have a knew terrible goddess!" He arched his wrinkled brow at D. "Or perhaps you will stop it? As your father knew you would."

D gave a slight nod. "Thank you."

The old man grinned toothlessly. "Ah! Really! You truly are a formal youngster, my lovely dunpeal. Polite and courteous. So few of the people of the night are anymore. For your father then, I extend an oath. Should you stop Shaylyn's resurrection and send her permanently into the nothingness…" He looked around and the rest of the Barbaroi fell silent. "Then we, the Barbaroi, will no longer serve anyone but you, the son of the Vampire King." He sneered. "I told you once, pretty one, that only you would change our ways, should we ever change it." He looked up into the starry sky and his voice was hoarse and serious. "Perhaps another change is in the air, and once more Destiny twists the wheels of Fate."

D gave the old man a brief bow and mounted his steed. "Once more, I thank you, old man." D then turned away and rode out of the gates of the Barbaroi unbothered, only the old man's laughter following him.